


White Wedding

by Choco-holic (Draqonelle)



Series: Fallacy [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Angst and Humor, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Gen, Holding Hands, Kolinahr, M/M, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Mind Meld, Multi, Pon Farr, Star Trek: AOS, Telepathy, scandalous vulcan kissing in public
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draqonelle/pseuds/Choco-holic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schann T'gai Spock and T'sai T'pring Krei-il Shintar have been pledged to each other, by their clan's oath before the Council and before the Gods, to mate and be joined as bondmates when T'pring enters her first Pon Farr. Over the Years, the two become used to this arrangement, though their personalities clash and their worlds are very different. But there are things more serious than oaths and older then the Dawn of Days.  Things Vulcans have not forgotten.<br/>Now with Vulcan destroyed,  The Vulcans come together to see the first Koon-at-kali-fee on the colony, away from the lands of their forebearers.<br/>This is the Vulcan Heart.  This is the Vulcan Soul.  This is the Vulcan Way</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As it was in The Dawn of our Days

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Support of [Tydomin, Spockaholic , Bastet, T'jorvik, Logically Illogical, T'lara and Blue_ tunic on the K/S Archive](ksarchive.com)And and Carol on Facebook.
> 
> Here on Archive of our own, I want to thank the Awesome [Karracaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Karracaz/pseuds/Karracaz) for her art work and awesome Vulcan Fiction, And [Katie Marie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/pseuds/katiemariie) for her fabulous and fascinating Vulcans in the Kin Verse and in that most insane Star Trek Four Parody

White Wedding

Tpau-Now  
    Spock announces he is going to be late of course. No man that good looking has to be punctual to be admired.

    The crowd of Vulcans which should have been small and simple, were swelling to the edges of the great cavern. This is the first Koon-at-kal-I-fee on the new world. While two couples have reaffirmed their bound, and one hundred and five children have been born, this is still a special occasion for all. The colony has arrived to witness it for some reason that is nothing like logic but all Vulcan Minds agree too.

    Tsai T’pau, head of the Vulcan council, exits the transporter site and her porters try to straighten her litter. She is carried by two incomplete males.  Stohlen (unmanned in a traffic accident) and Sor (who did not complete the Kahswar realizing at the end of the end of the trip he was transgender.) She is not without protection in the swell of crowd.  In this new world, there is always some need of Honaya, get-togethers, and T’pau is brought by her attendants to each one who guard her body from the chaos of the crowd.

    Spock.  His duty in Star Fleet requires him to run around in a human clothing and he has no time to change into his bridal garb. There is no bridal surplice, no armor. It is tight body revealing clothing it is at once shocking and suitable. Though Vulcan armor is revealing it is still somehow tradition. In his uniform, you can see the shape of his arms, the swagger of his hips. It is wrong, but somehow right, as all things about this man are.  You can see his wrist bone carelessly exposed. It is bad  enough women go out in uncovered hair and exposed cleavage, but now many young men will adapt this affectation, or perhaps join Star Fleet themselves to cut a dashing figure at their Koon-at-kal-I-fee.

    Before now, T’pau did not have the chance to know Spock’s incredible nature as she had T’pring over the months after Vulcan-that-was on the New Colony, She and T’pring met nearly weekly working to stabilize the damage done to the Katric Arc, until the girl’s Pon Farr had began to rage.  All she knows of Spock these days is his reputation.

    Spock is a planetary hero. A proud logical man of honor. He returned to save the Katric Arc.  He stopped the War Criminal Nero, who went rogue from the Romulan Star Empire, His bravery saved the entire Planet of Earth, the Federation HQ, Star Fleet from destruction, he spared two worlds from complete annihilation, the masses adore him with an almost human ardor. There is talk of appointment to the Vulcan High Council among the populus, though it is unlikely.  Women petition the High Council to name their children after him, (though he is still living and it never popular in the canons)  His exploits on the Enterprise are noted in both media and rumor.  There is such a thing as celebrity in Earth Society, a person who is noted and the general population comes to admire and emulate.  Spock is a Vulcan Celebrity, famous for his fame.

    From the crest of the hill she can see him in the center of the circle of Monoliths which surround the mouth of the Caverns. T’pau opens up the Hidden Eyes in her mind and saw his true essence.

    She dismisses a mild feeling, a pride that radiates when they all see Spock.  He materializes in the transporter needful and warm. The brown in his eyes warmly glow, seeming demonic and haunted like superstitious apparation.  
He chants as the transporter clouds dissapate in a cloud of stars.

    He stands in the meeting area in the circle of stones.  It is not the family lands but it is a close enough approximation.  She can see him approach looking for the marriage gong. From so far away she can feel him approach.

    From an Early age, T’pau was a rare pyschic, perhaps one of the few living Masters now. She, unlike any other Vulcan, can use meditation to open the Hidden eye which sees beyond her eyes, at great distances, and then sees the katra without illusion. For good or bad, it is how she was born. Spock’s true form is before her. He has a blue glow from him. It streams from his body.  It is glamorous.

    His Katra, unlike every other Vulcan’s, had a Hue.  A glittering cool blue, almost silvery and subtle, blazing like te-resh-kah* feathers from seven points in his form.  The Katra itself revealing his mixed heritage.  Neither completely static or erratically dynamic. For a Human’s true essential being had more connections to their body then a Vulcan’s Katra, at least Seven times they intersect. She had been told by Human monastics it could be something called chakra or qui or the soul.  But it could be they were unique to him.  Human katra were light things which scattered at death, transcending material bonds, like a hundred stars. Vulcan’s katras were heavy simple and weighted, like objects but no less precious.

    The humans did not know this themselves but often the powerful color and light shining off of the human spirit was almost offensive. It was worse and more garish then their smell. Their unpleasant odor could be masked. Vulcans had been trained since desert days to avoid anything of too bright a hue as poisonous and foul.  Spock’s katra is throbbing and the points were his body and soul intersect. Each one pulses in time with the thunder in his heart. His strange heart is louder then the hearts of others, but pulsing with the same plak.

    When T’pau sees the little humans like curious animals approach with Spock. She is not surprised.  They are precocious intelligent creatures, and not logical enough to curtail curiosity.  She should have expected that some humans would intrude despite all their precautions to find the caverns. If she saw a herd of 600 Humans on the hills of her estate in such an assembly, she would wonder what they were doing and go to see them. But this is more then a meddlesome curiosity.  She can see them like soul eaters, with piercing color and light. The bonds of their affection make a friendship stronger then she has ever seen.  Sometimes so strong they guard it with jocularity and little arguments.  They will leave no soul behind. One human is the Captain that Spock trusts so much he lets him command, though he is another Race.  The other man is a healer.  They have come to protect him.  Waving their little guns and padding carefully.  Like two grass-nibbling k’nurt* ignoring a sehlat’s* six inch claws, when all the while a stalking le-mataya* stands between them.  
    The great houses that still live have come to see this wedding below the sea, in the new world.

    This was to be the first Koon-at-kal-I-fee to be held on the world.  It was blessed that the son of Sarek would come in to his time as soon as the Kalifar facilities had been built. They had chosen the Caverns of N-ter-Prys (Enterprise) by the Western Sea, In the deepest driest hole of a canyon hundreds of feet below the sea level.  (Yes this planet had salty seas to the far west, where is was wet and grassy, All in all despite the weather not a terrible place for resettlement for those who wish for a more stable food and water supply. This was a matter of survival.)

    It was by happenstance that the great houses found those hidden Caverns during the many Expeditions. The Federation was not informed of their existence. It was a great wide network of underground caves that reached from the Settlement to edge of the Continent, which might serve as a meeting place for all the Kalifar for years to come for all the Vulcanir.  And its greatest defense if Invaders came again.

    The Great Houses had no longer the power to stand alone. The great families only controlled cultivated by their own hands, not which was passed on from generation to generation.  The Federation was not opposed to this system.  Humans did not believe in possession of land (Which was a strange concept.)  But lack of land possession and the network of resources had gutted the societal structure.  Many clans eliminated, many fortunes lost. Vulcan was not only on the verge of starvation, there was a chance that they may have to go back to currency and commerce. The Incident had catapulted them thousands of years into the past.

    The Humans were passionate in helping the Vulcans rebuild their world but this was no time for them to interfere. This was a Vulcan matter.  
    Things were changing rapidly.

    The Caverns of N-ter-Prys was far away from the settlement. The Houses of Shintar and Sarek used precious transporter credits to arrive without the prying eyes of the humans.  Some Vulcans traveled by foot and commercial transport to the great meeting. The bridal parties was not only a half dozen retainers, but nearly 200 for each party.  And it was officiated by the head of the Vulcan High Council, T’pau.

    She would have done this even if it was not the union of two great houses. Two Decades ago and one year, T’pau had made the match and forged the mating bond. Despite everything that had happened in holocaust and ruin, Romulans and Humans, she was there to see it through. It was the little things like this that kept her alive. Let them make this planet their new home.

    As T’pau closes her eyes,  She remembered making this match.  For even the head of the Syrrian order needs a hobby, hers was to be match maker.  She had been successful in pairing many unbounded Vulcans, even adults whom were considered unmatchable. Someone impartial to help forge the bonds of the future. While Children did it on the whims of beauty and charm, the Parents did it for wealth and connection, only she could claim, to care about the future prosperity. In this cutthroat world of Vulcan Courtship, she was the only ally to Logic.

    Their Horoscopes, blood lines and ages had made them a once in a lifetime convergence.  She brought T’pring from a thousand miles away to meet Spock the first time.  Now he traveled across star systems light years apart to his Koon-at-kal-I-fee.

    T’pring, daughter of Soren, cousin of Shintar, of the house Shintar is beautiful, she does not dare look any less then her best.  She is a Kohlinar Adept, the granddaughter of T’lar and T’zaia in eugenic alchemy have crafted T’pring, a girl who is only beginning to show the strength of her bloodlines.  
    One who could be adept in the art of Fal-tor-pan, she could be fal-tor-pan master, while T’pau only fumbles Katra into jars, and lives on the pity of Surak.  Even a Qomi man, Archer, had shamed her in this. T’pring would be a guide, a judge and a facilitator and able to restore life to a corpse.  She had seen and felt it with her own inner eyes.

    T’pring wears a white dress with a silver shine, short in the front with a long train. She painted her eyes with silver over her tawny skin. Her hair is plaited and arranged in the branches of a willow that does not exist on this world.  A tree with water sucking roots so deep they can upturn roads and houses.  The Love Tree. It is no more.  She does not dress in the traditional purple robes of the wedding. She dresses for him.

    Her friends have not elected to join the wedding party. Not one other female has set beside her. They still must walk for several steps, as they reach the place.  As they did at koon-ut-katr-la when she was but a tiny seven year-old girl.

    “Child?”

    T’pau looks around for well wishers and women attendant on her hair and dress. T’pau sees none for the young woman. T’pring is not an easy woman, but to be left of companions this time is a thing that should induce shame in the weak. She was a compelling beauty, and spent little effort except on her beauty before the End of Vulcan.  Now she was to marry Ambassador Sarek’s only son.

    “Do thy wish intercourse, child?” T’pau asks

    “It would please me madam as my intended is late.”  She says.

    “He does not come from down the road.  It is illogical to expect this to go smoothly.”

    “Spock.  He will do more to me then this.  My lady and colleague tell me what I may do.” T’pring seems weak.

    “Do what is logical.” T’pau says.

    “I have and it will do nothing.”

    T’pau holds her face, like a mother might her daughter in some inane manner. There is no bond between the women in blood.  The blood lines have circumvented them, though many of their station are cousin, near cousin, and some say even near brothers and near sisters.  T’pring is not her concern.  T’pau tucks a curl into her bun, trying to remember this, and not remember her lovely daughter.

    “They have tear ducts.  You might see their pain dribble out their eyes. Do you think Spock has this capacity? To shed pain through tears.”

    “I know not of Spock,  but Vulcans have given up this capability.  He may have made the decision not to indulge in what is natural to him.  He may not have the choice of his biology,” T’pau said.

    “And what of our sophisticated Vulcan biology?” T’pring’s voice is bitter.

    “Does thou use Sarcasm with me child?”

    This line of inquiry is interrupted. Stonn approaches them, via transport.  He is in the wedding garb, steel armor and Shimal brocade tunic.  The colorless armor silvery armor of a challenger and attendant.

    “Stonn…  My Grandson…  What?” T’pau is surprised to see him. Stonn is the only one of her direct family to be considered alive.  He approaches her.  She remembers that equanimity is a virtue of priestesses and leaders, and does not resent him for his foolish garb. She also does not regret that he is her ONLY blood kin, and that on his future, the Blood line of Xius and Surak and many other genetic strains rely.

    “Tpring has none in her house to attend her in the bridal train.  I am prepared to attend on her for the ceremony.”

    “I told you to stay in the city this day.” T’pring’s voice was diamond stern.

    “You are T’pring’s companion.” T’pau says “I may not look up without seeing you in each others … confidence.”  She says “It is known throughout the colony.”

    “Stonn what do you do?” T’pring hissed. “GO away. Go back to the city.”

    “Foremother.  She is allowed this. Her closest companions should be there. Those she sees as her friends.”

    “I have no companions.  Thanks to thee.” T’pring does not look him in the eyes “Vulcans do not need any companions. We are independent creatures and such bonds seduce each other to ridiculous behavior.”

     He looks at her.

    “Stonn.  How long before Plaktow will settles in your body, in my presence?”  
  You will…”

    T’pau looked at him, “It is a logical inquiry, boy-child” T’pau looks at her grandson.  She needed no mind-meld to tell what was to occur.

    “You are allowed this, T’pring”

    “Only to--”

    “Foolish boy.  You…  You are… Spock will attack thee when his Plaktow is imminent.”

    Stonn looks into her eyes “I see this as a simple matter, Grandmother and Foremother. He attacks me. I will fight him. It is only logical.” Stonn bows “Let us go. I know you have a preference for arriving as early as possible, T’pring.”  
    He takes three steps behind her.  
    “After you ladies.”  He allows them to lead.  
****  
T’pau- Twenty-One Years ago

    T’pau remembered the boy she met. Large eyes glowed in reverence of her, the Syrranite Abbess, the new Head of the Vulcan High Council.  The Commander in Chief of the Vulcan Space Forces, Foremother of the Clan of Surak’s Blood Line.  
    His eyes were the very color of a chocolate. Indulgent and pale.  Eyes too red to be born of Vulcanir. They are some alien color.  She has seen this sheen in eyes of the Lady Amanda.  The Qomi… The human outworlder. His mouth stretched from screaming and yawning, now stuck shut, as if speaking a word would cause her to eat him.  He was a winsome delicate thing then, still sickly.  
    He looked up at her. His eyes and jaw evinced primal fear.  She will kill me if I make a mistake. He projected in his innocence.

    She addressed his inner thoughts “Kill you boy? Is it illogical to assume a woman who has come all this way to meet you would kill you?  Do you think I will hurt you? Even though I do no know you and have done me no wrong?”

    “Madam perhaps it is a metaphor.  That I will do something wrong and you will scold me.” Spock looked to his feet to hide his strange pale eyes. “A metaphor madam is a construction of the imagination that…”

    “I know what a metaphor is child.”  She said, a child explaining simple things to her.  She looked at him closely.  She did not make a motion to touch his skin, and extract the information through telepathy but his defense tumbled.

    “I am afraid of being scolded.” He admitted himself to her.

    “Vulcans do not give into fear or anger.” T’pau said.

    “Yes Ma’am, Tsai-T’pau,  I swear I will never ever ever ever do that. Honestly.”  The panicked capitulation is not strange but disappointing.

    He is so eager to be a without emotions that he can never be without them.

    “If you cannot help it, these two are the most damaging. Life is very long. Do not expect to reach Kohlinar as fast as a star ship goes to warp speed.  You can only go as fast as you are strong.  Eliminate Fear and Anger. Can you try this for me?”

    “My mother said that many humans believe this can take many ages, lifetimes and even incarnations to do such a thing. A second of anger shall have such violent consequences to the spirit that it will be felt for a thousand years.” Spock related to her.  He has worried much on the topic of anger.

    T‘pau nodded “Your mother is wise as a priestess and has not been remiss to teach you to respect the ways of the Spirit. If Vulcanir women were as careful Tsai Amanda there would be no illogic in the world.” She motioned Spock to sit across from T’pring and not pace the room.

    She had to remember that despite the appearance, Spock’s blood is not weak.  His Vulcan blood is thin, but he could be strong, if bearing the vigors of survival.  
T’sai Amanda, now there was a mind.  She was a dangerous woman and a woman who truly apprehended the danger of emotions.    
    It is hard for many to believe that Amanda did not die during Pon farr or the Woman’s Trials or ATE her son in the birthing cave, the way humans carry on with their excessive animal natures.  If there was a single creature that could teach Spock to eliminate his fears, it may be her. Because of the progress the elegant Vulcan sciences, Vulcan hybrids were born more frequently every year, But Spock was the only one of these children born during a Pon Farr. Not only child but Blood Heir. When Amanda was not working at her school, she taught at the temple of Shan, mind discipline and Tehrn yoga. To those who did not know her, she seemed peaceable and innocent. But there was something, ancient about Amanda, T’pau thought had the carriage of an adept of T’pel, from those old murals, thin and eternally girlish. She kept in a fluffy frothy surface of laughter and self-deprecation.  Before Surak’s day, one like Amanda could have killed many to prove the keenness of her mind and become a priestess, what she lacked in body strength she made up in spirit, in an inverse relation. It did border on perversion that a woman who could not lift more then 37kg could be stronger then an a Vulcan.  
    This strange virtue tied to the Bloodline and Genetic Line of Surak who knows what this Spock might accomplish in the spiritual realm.  Since Spock was in the standard of deviation, he might be revealed a secret Princess, if Priestess T’lar could be trusted… and T’lar could raise a corpse to life.

    T’pring was seated with such self possession.  She wondered if the girl alive. She does not stir but the flutter of her hand, which held a fan.  Shikar is very warm compared to Tpileh and she is not used to Shikari modesty, her body is in long robes and her sleek hair is uncovered. T’lar’s and T’zai’s granddaughter, T’pring is the niece to a Kohlinar Master, cousin to the house of Shintar.  She is the only female in a house of Spiritual giants.  She is no Shikari, but of Tpelih. Born and Bred in Dhikune the smallest towns, where the masters live in austerity, indulging in no modern convenience and strict meditation for their waking hours.  The traffic and noise of Shikar makes her even more still and cautious then before.  
    Soren would have been Kohlinar Master, had he not had family and clan to bring him from spiritual concerns.  Though the only act of compassion the dark skinned Soren ever did was take his daughter to his teat.  She was fed of the milk of a man who would trade her life for the chance for Kohlinar.  He wished her to be Kohlinaru by the time she was fifty. With such delicate preparation, this girl has found Path to Kohlinar easy to tread.  She is as beautiful as the boy is cute.  She did nothing to attract T’pau’s attention.  Her aura is icy, and trembled right under her skin. There is a phenomena where the rain reaches the point of freezing and floats down into the earth in a soft white feather-like shapes.  One gets the irrational impression that if you were to touch T’pring that such and event would occur here on Vulcan.

    “Spock what do you think of this one?”  
      
    Spock puts his arms behind his back. “She is very beautiful.  Everyone tells me we will be married.  I will be very good and do everything I can to make her life prosperous and successful. I want to make her happy.”

    T’pau heard his little voice falter. “Or you will be scolded?” T’pau asked.  
Spock looked at his feet.

    T’pring looked at her not him. “I have not been happy before, so it is not necessary thing to my life. Spock is speaking strangely to me.  Make him stop.”

    “Do you find beauty in him as he does you?”

    “He has good bones and his hands…” She said “They are the hands of a future master.”

    He was flattered and barely suppresses his pride. T’pring is horrified at the surge of warmth. The desire to do good, the thirst for her approval and love.

    She lowered her head and closed her eyes.  She got a color in her skin like an aquamarine “But he talks too much. His nose dribbles. He is a very young Vulcan, My lady.”  She returned.  She had mysterious eyes, even for a Vulcan, and a silent eye, T’pau’s keen psychic vision had not been able to determine.  She could be just try to be mean, to dispel the feelings of attachment Spock has for her.  She made a decision to change her manner to get what she wants out of life.  T’pau is a bit proud but that is just a feeling.  
    “Very very young. And not suitable to any purpose yet.” T’pring spoke more gently, a gentler tone to her voice.

    Spock, perhaps delusional, thought that by this tone of voice, (not by her cruel words) she didn’t really mean the swipe of cruelty, which paradoxically aggravated his need for her approval more.

    “I have series of queries for the both of you. Before the bond is created. Most serious and personal queries.  We will not be able to attend Koon-at-katr-la, if we are not able to prepare.  And as a result, your mating will be a failure. You would not be able to go to the Koon-at-katr-la until you were fourteen and chances of a successful mating would be infinitesimal.”  
    “We must work hard then to make sure we are ready.” Spock said.  
                    ***  
    It was a hard first day. Amanda was not allowed into the room with the children, but tapped her foot so loudly to Vulcan ears.  T’pau was surprised at the human’s behavior. Generally you could not tell the dainty human woman from a proper Vulcan.  That day, T’pring came, Amanda covered her hair and she could not see her famously round and little ears. There were those who thought she was a Vulcan woman until they saw her struggle with a light shopping bag, startle at a noise or came up with some word no one had ever heard before. But do something cruel to her son, and she would fly into emotional fury.  

    The little thing’s aura positively blinds! It has the bright blue of a poison frog .  It was almost a gaudy thing which distracts T’pau as she interviewed the children for their match. And the woman was in the next room.  

    They forgot that Tsai Amanda is not Vulcan and does not have shields, just discipline. Discipline that is fading fast.   Fear and a furious anger ebbed off of her body. Spock and T’pring cannot help to be nervous from her erratic behavior, young as they are. They do not have the shields to ignore her.  But also they have never seen a woman so angry before. Spock did not remember a time that Mother was angry like this.  At him. At Vulcans.  It is intense and pierces through walls.  He continued his shameful delusions and thought he had made some error.  As if Spock was responsible for following his biological imperative and finding a wife.

    T’pring had not heard a human voice before, she swallowed the fear like an adult.  So much anger makes their childish stomach’s roil.  After four hours, they heard the Qomi speak.

    “He is a baby.  He is my baby.  And why is she asking him that….are asking him questions like that.”

    Sarek was steady, and drew her from their company.  “It will be well.  We have agreed to this. If we are the ones to stop this we will be foresworn.  This is our way.  This has gone unchanged.” Sarek said “You swore before T’lar. It is an oath before Gods and Men.  Spock is to complete the Forge in 23 days.  This is to be.”  
      
    “I never did like these goddamn Vulcan Ultimatums.”  Amanda paced.

    “Amanda you are she that is my wife.  Bonded by Happenstance. Your emotional reactions have never dominated your adherence to logical principles.  Your emotions may have confused me but they have been irrelevant to our mutual benefit. Whatever they say of you. Must I doubt your commitment to the Vulcan way.”  
      
    “While in the discussion of this matter. You said ‘You can do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.’  So we pledged our troth. If you still had arguments you should have made them before.”

    “I do not want to lose my baby.  I…”  
      
    “You are not going to lose him.  He is to be wed.  In a variety of circumstances the males usually bring their brides to the larger manor.  He will still be present.”

    “But…  Sarek can’t you understand.  My attachment to him is stronger than I intended. These are not thoughts I could ever discipline. These thoughts are me, at my esscence.  I am sorry.  My discipline fades. I cannot understand it through. You can’t talk me into it.  I was …I do not like this.  There is something wrong with this match.  This is not the way it is supposed to be.  Fuck it.”

    Amanda lost her ability to speak Vulcan, and she returned the coarse yet musical Standard to her husband about doubts.  Saying things like “Ridiculous.” And “T’Pau must be a closet pedophile.”  It is all high speed and intense language and the woman is panting in the thin Vulcan air. She started to short out the sub-dermal translators with illogical metaphors and speed, and her words are lost, and Sarek and his wife gabble in private. Spock was aware of what she was saying, did not translate and in fact seemed embarrassed further.

    T’pau meant no cruelty.  She should have corrected the woman but after everything is said and done she is Qomi, but human.  Amanda had honored their ways as best she could, and T’pau could not find illogic in letting Qomi be she was made and let the woman have her moment.

    Amanda was told to leave the sessions. As she left her own house, she walked out the door staring at the three of them, her resentment burned T’pau like a black iron, too hot to see the flame. T’pau only does the best she can for Spock.  The emotion burned.  There are many words for anger and fear in Qomi tongue. There is a joke that humans have so many emotions they must not feel anything at all very deeply. But this is terrible thing. T’pau knew there will be a scar between her and the human woman, which will heal but is ugly and dark.  This is for the children’s sake, Not Amanda’s.  When Amanda gone, it became more normal and they all can focus on the bond.

     The one thing they had in common is that these children both have profound psychic facility.  Their bonds forge quickly as if it is a game. Both are very ambitious, both are intelligent, and have active minds. Spock‘s mind is still soft and pure, like well water. His thoughts are little but animals, computers and guilt, flowing swirling moving. Silty and foggy. T‘pring‘s minds has a more rubbery quality, like wet clay.  Her mind is like a road, with glittering Kohlinar in the distance.  Her body but a tool to attain Kohlinar.  They have not built their minds yet, an empty landscape.  These are all metaphors of an untrained Vulcan mind. Their bond needs space to grow.  If it is made while soft, they can become one, their mind growing around the bond as if it is not there, as if they were made for each other.

    Perhaps it was merely Vulcans accounting for the one factor they have yet to control after millenia of mental discipline, affinity. The unspeakable quality that induces a desire to not only cooperate but be affectionate.  
    Affinity paired Sarek with Qomi woman.  Affinity placed T’pau in the bed of the Prime Minister.  That mysterious quality unable to be determined by current study of science and spirituality.  
    While they are taking a break from their meditation. T’pau watched them by the fountain alcove. Spock reached his hand for hers as he has seen men do with their wives holding out his finger and licking his lips. She ignored him, trying to continue her resting meditation.

    When this failed, he got up from his lotus position. He climbed into the fountain, where a daisy grew delicately between the stones.  He pulled it from it’s roots that he shakes the dirt from. “If you are nervous, I will reassure you I have carefully considered our life together T’pring, I have thought long about having a wife and wanted one from my earliest days.” The boy said “My mother is behaving illogically.”

    “She is a human. Are they not illogical in nature?”

    “That is racist. Qomi are logical AND illogical.” Spock said. “Some days they are logical, conducting themselves as Vulcans do. Some days they are… not. Some days they are Crazy.”  He spit out the Qomi word casually.  Though T’pau and T’pring recognize it as Amanda said it fifteen times.

    “Crazy sounds awful.” T’pring pursed her lips in consideration.

    “It is the most apt invective of mental illness which is not only embarrassing but indulgent and immature and does not merit any pity.  Language that describes emotion is very exact in Standard.”

    T’pring asked “How do you determine when they are going to be logical?”

    “It is impossible to determine.” Spock said. “Even if one understands Human Society. They just… become illogical.”  

    “Both Logical and Illogical. That is illogical too.” T’pring tried not to think about it too hard. “And Ki-ra-zee.”  She pronounced the word.  

    “You have to get used to them.” Spock said.

    T‘pring looked at him, “Your mother does not like me. I have angered her.”

    “I do not care to obey her.” Spock grumbled “If she hates marriage so much she would have not gotten married herself.  Marriage is a logical thing.” He looked disquieted at his mother’s harsh words. It flickered over his delicate face. “You will always have a companion.  You can make babies. You will have someone to interact with who will help you make the most logical decisions. You will never be alone.  Married is a preferable state of existence.”

    “Spock what are you doing up there? Your position is precarious.” T’pring asked.

    Spock knelt at her lap. He handed her the blossom. “This is a gesture of human courtship.  If we are to be intended, I will do it the human way too, to prove to you I have not been forced into wedlock by tyrannous abuse of my civil liberties as my mother insists.”  
    “I do not-  I do not do such a thing.  You are my intended to be.”  He held out the flower. Her loveliness fills him with awe. “Take this flower from me.”  He said.

    Their fingers touched.  Spock has never kissed a girl either.  T’pring and him lock eyes for many moments. T’pring did not know what to do with the gift, but took it.  She has never met anyone like him and was very afraid because she cannot know him.

    “Now that means we are in love.” Spock looked to her  “And our romance has been accomplished. It would be illogical to not do these things in their proper sequence. Humans must be in love to marry. Then we will start to have children, if the old human proverbs are correct. First comes love, then marriage next comes infants.

    “Infants,  I am not biologically mature.” she looked at her stomach, a slight fear and ignorance of human anatomy made her feel illogical fear “Have you impregnated me asexually like a spore?…”  She felt her belly “Help I am too small for pregnancy! I am but seven.”

    “No” Spock pet her belly  “You must be married first or the fetus is not viable, obviously.”  Then you must…” He scanned his memory.”  He sang “First comes love, then comes marriage. Next is a baby in a baby carraige.” Spock repeated the old human proverb. “We have some rather vague objectives to accomplish for our future.  But we must one day soon ‘kay Iye ess ess Iye enn gee’ in a large tree that can support both of our weights.”

    T’pring did not really wish to hold this flower.  Spock nodded with a sense of accomplishment.

    “If I set it down does that mean we are not in love Spock…”

    Spock shook his head ‘no‘, but really does not know, ignorant of the subtleties of Qomi courtship.  He scratched the back of his head.  
***  
    Some hours later, T’pau leads them in a guided meditation to begin to connect the two in the betrothal bond . They were in private mediation.  
      
    “Let your guards down, let me see your minds, children.” T’pau asked them.  
      
    Their transparent thoughts filter through T’pau’s mind. Being young most thoughts as simple phrases, like speech in a large room.  They have no privacy, no subtlety.  It is why bonds must be made young before the clouds of experience hid the true minds.

    She witnessed Spock’s loving fanfare of Tpring. So desperate and tinged with that intractable of emotions… Enthusiasm.

  
**“T‘PRING IS THE GREATEST VULCAN I HAVE EVER MET. SHE IS WISE AND LOGICAL. IF SHE LETS ME SERVE HER NEEDS, THEN I WILL HAVE A GREAT CONTENTMENT. IF SHE MARRIES ME, I WILL PROVE BEYOND DOUBT THAT MY EXISTENCE IS LOGICAL AND WORTHWHILE.  I WISH TO FILL HER LIFE WITH ENJOYMENT AND SEE TO HER EVERY NEED AND ENRICH HER.  IF YOU JUST LET ME MAKE YOU HAPPY…THEN I WILL BE HAPPY.**   


 

  
**I WONDER IF WE WILL HAVE BABIES ONE DAY…**   


  
T’pring’s mind is more regimented.  The thoughts childish yet bittersweet paean of duty and responsibility, weighing each against each other, her arguments childish and still forming.

  

  * Number 1: Spock has potential to be a mate who will have many irrelevant flaws.
  



     (section 2)If well educated he will become a mate sufficient to every need and want.  
Exception: His need for love is not a negligible or irrelevant flaws

  

  * Number 2: I work for to reach Kohlinar
  



    (section 2)Kohlinar is the purgation of all emotions  
        (paragraph) Including Positive emotions)  
Exception: I am not competent enough to meditate through my Pon Farr, where in I will lose all control. Those who seek Kohlinar may go through Pon Farr, those who reach and master Kohlinar cannot.

  


  

  * Number 3: Love is a state that generally induces a variety of emotions, both positive and negative
  



    (section 2)The positive emotions are harder to resist then negative ones.   
    (section 2a) And the nature of Love also means that there might be negative emotions induced as well which are negative

  


  

  


Conclusion: If Spock makes me love him, then  I will be unable to reach Kohlinar.    
Solutions:

  


  

  * (1)Tell Spock of the paradox, so he can amend his behaviors.  If he does wish me to not be harmed he could not deny my request. 
  

  


  

  * (2) Tell T’pau I do not wish to marry Spock and become foresworn and a pariah of Vulcan Society. This is the wrong choice.
  

  * (3) The Illogical choice.
  

  


**  
HAPPY? HAPPY? HAPPY?**  
Quiet Quiet Quiet Quiet  
 **TOGETHER HAPPY? HAPPY? HAPPY?  TPRING**  
Alone Quiet Quiet Quiet QUIET!

“No.” T’pring stood from her lying position.  
“You are not an amenable companion.” She fisted her hands and left the room.  
Spock stood up “We have to get married,  Your father said… Come back here!” He ran after her “I will tell your parents.”  
“I do not care. I have to leave your presence!” T’pring actually shouted, shouting loudly turning her face blue.

T’pau watched them stunned and lets them run.  Her own mind removed.

After ten minutes of silence they return.

“I have the situation in Hand, Tsai T’pau.” Spock has his hand behind his back. “I have never had intercourse before.  I was inexpert and apologize for emotional transference.”

“It is not right to answer emotion with emotion.” T’pring refused to meet anyone’s eye.  

“You are a boy unable to resist your impulses, and I am a student of Kohlinar.  I cried out.”

T‘pau was glad they could control themselves like Vulcans. T‘pau looked at the younglings. “The fault is mine, youngling as such intense process should not be rushed.  I have put too much pressure on you for one day.” T’pau said “It would be the time to meditate then retreat to slumber.”

The two children walk off their first fingers in chaste kiss. T’pau knew it would be a hard bond to forge.  But both of them are determined to make it work, with all the force of their stubborn personalities.  Perhaps it would not end as Amanda feared it would. Perhaps things will work.  
****  
T’pring/Spock: Twenty-One years ago.

“Explain.”

“Specify.”

“The Nature of thyself to me, Spock. Why should I love?  Why should you love me instead  of others? Why should I love Spock instead of others?

“It will make me happy, to know that I can be of use to someone.  That my existence is not pointless.”

“Why are your needs not as great as my needs, Spock?  Why is your existence pointless if I do not love you. Why?”

Her thoughts hit him. The confusion hits his face hard. Her mind is powerful and heavy.  Her thoughts are like bricks. Strong direct as good logical mind should produce.  As her father taught her.  He shrugs a bit.  And his mind opens.

Spock’s are not as thick, they are not as heavy.  His thoughts wound and like grains of sand in a storm

I do not know.  

Spock is no great thing.  The needs of me are no great thing. T’pring is Vulcan and better. Spock is…  Spock must be better. Therefore Spock must be Vulcan or Spock will be abandoned. Spock must be as others are or he will be alone

Tpring is overcome. She holds his hands. The dynamism of a mind is not like anything she felt.  It was like reaching for a box and grabbing a ball.  She could not weigh it, she could not measure it.  It was there and intense.

She gives Spock her perception and her mind, as it is now.  And offers her glimpse of him without ornament of praise or insult.  Completely blank and disinterested, as she prayed it would be. Spock sees hims on the ground holding hands with Tpring and wilted flowers.

Spock. You fill me with bemusement.  How can any one not care about the self?  Your self is beautiful, Spock.  Do not Abuse yourself or be a fool.

Spock opened his eyes “I am not a fool.”  He spoke aloud, and there was something in his voice.  Something T’pring had never heard, was this anger.  “Fools are not worthy of the regard I seek.” He seemed finally not to want her with such force any more.  His desire is muted by an frission of anger, supplanted by a slightly more delicate rhythm of fascination and guilt. It was bearable but so strange.

T’pring takes in a deep breath. They take getting used to

It is a delicate start. But it must grow carefully.  
“Your discipline is far superior to your beauty, which I measure as extensive.”

“This is the human thing known as flattery.”  
“Haduni Tpring.” He calls her “Little Madame”  Her title (as she was too young to be a proper Tsai.) Something only a proper Shikari gentleman “I am from Shikari.  The day I flatter anyone I will not be fit to live on Vulcan.” He said “I have gratitude for your help.”  
“Let us return to T‘pau.” Spock retained some modicum of calm he did not.  “I am not a fool.”

***  
Spock/Tpring: Six Years ago

    Spock was on Earth, it was night.  T’pring perceived it all through her intended’s bond.  She wondered if his illogic and preference colors his perception. It is a beautiful clean place, not like she expected to see on Earth, from it’s reputation. It looks like wilder sections of Shikar, with perversely human bent to their antiques, only 400 years old.

    He had off campus quarters. When he found quarters in the penthouse of a small apartment building, his father bought the bought him the whole floor allow him latitude.  Spock really did not know that he paid his rent to his father.  Thinking he is somewhat independent.  It is still not as spacious as the Compound in Shikar but he is a man of simple needs.  He could moved to the barracks, had it not a view of the ocean.  A  
yearning to hear the tide gave him a serenity one rarely finds in nature.  Never in Space.

    The ocean guides his breaths.  The oxygen saturates his mind with energy that would make T’pring air-drunk.  The oxygen could make a man do drastic things. He does not desire his human neighbors to be alarmed or disturbed by the appearance of the couriers in the livery of the House Shintar.  He believed they will raise his rent for the excessive noise their presence brings if this continued for much longer.

    The humans are thrilled.  They had known an alien of some interest was occupying the penthouse suite, and know unusual intergalactic happenings were taking place in their own building under their nose. At least they did not come in full formal armor with the Banners and Cestrum.  He looks at them.  
    “I have neighbors.  It is late. Please tread quietly.”

    Spock is only wearing second underwear.  He has nothing on his body but a grey sweater his mother handcrafted for him and jeans, the distinctive blue cotton wear of many Earthlings.  He never appeared so before her eyes.  But this was the Apartment of Spock and she has no authority to tell him to dress decently.  This is Earth. The Qomi wore bikinis and played in the ocean there.

    Spock has feared to open the letter of Tpring but now it is too late.  
    “Schann Spock. Tsai Tpring Requires an answer to her letter.”

    “It is illogical that she has sent formal couriers to my quarters.  Does she not apprehend the cultural differences of Vulcan and Earth?  Or appreciate the spectacle that four Liveried Couriers would have in San Franscisco?  They have been flying sub-light speed for nearly five days. For a matter of no galactic consequence.”

    While watching, he wrote her a response. He for the first time realized, he does not own paper.  He has empty PADDs and blank media. The Couriers provide the silky grey parchment.  They wait for him to find a pen.

    “Milord, is it not saying something that She wishes for you to read her writing. And have it be known she is thine. To write on the subject of her attachment to thee. It may be undignified but some women have love for their mates and cannot help it”  

    Tpileh are not without graces as Shikari claim.  Writing is a prized art. He returned to his clumsy handwriting, wondering if he should have taken more classes in the Deportment of a Gentleman, instead of visiting his cousins in Texas that summer of his Bar Mitzvah.  His hand writing looked young. Broad wide and inexact.

    “It is the tactics of psychological warfare, to manipulate me, using my weak emotional nature to make a decision on emotion alone.  A man does not abandon his destiny and duty for a woman.”

    “Schann T’gai Spock.”

    “Illogical and Wasteful to send Couriers.  She will text or comm me or…” He looked out the window at the sea “She must use the facility given to us by nature.”  He ruffled the hair on his neck. As he does when he is aggravated by the bond between them.

    “She will not know you sir?  She is your intended. The one to be thy bondmate. She has closed her mind to you before she has opened the door.”

    “The nature of this precious missive you have carried from Vulcan is this. She will not connect with me through our bond, have intercourse with me or connect with me until I am in Vulcan’s Skies.  By her own oath before her family and the conclave of High Priests, the High Council. She will never see me again until I return to Vulcan and never leave.”

    “You must forbear.  She will be like a stranger to you. It is one thing not to see your intended but not to know her.” the courier said.

    “All those years pimpery and sneaking around under my father’s nose.  The laws of modesty violated in secret to spend time together, while we did not know each other.” He said. Spock drew his accent marks over his letters with a stern force almost indicating a less then serene mood. “One might have intercourse, be acquainted with a woman in all common things for many years and not truly know her.” The tittles and graves nearly piercing the parchment. “She is a stranger to me now, if she can say such things.”  He said.  

    Spock noticed her in his mind.  He closed his eyes

    “T’pring you were the one who desires to be separated, since I joined Star Fleet Academy.  I am going to have an angry reaction and need time to purge it. Remove yourself from my mind.  Or I promise you that you will feel it.  Perhaps it is I who will not know you.“

    T’pring knew that he could accidentally do such a thing.  Anger filling his beautiful mind quickly leaving no room for elegance. It was like drowning in emotion. She cannot imagine the pain it causes Spock. She had never been threatened with his anger. She shielded from their mating link the second he feels her.  She is rebuffed in a puff of shadow, returned to her own mind.  
    Spock was Crazy like that.

***  
T’pau Now

    Sor girds Spock in a precious scrap of Surak’s purple and the two approach.  It looks thread bare, compared to the beauty of the surplice Sarek’s mother had sewn for him. Surakian Purple was frequently torn by eager male hands insane with Plaktow.

    Vulcan Textiles are rarer then dilithium.  The colony is clad in simple white clothing, human thickness and weft. A thin twill that scratches their skin.  Some come to think that it is mourning garb of Vulcans.  It is the result of having all your clothing immediately vaporized as it is crushed in a black hole.  They have to conserve resources for construction material, building and agricultural equipment and fuel reserves.

    The Systrum and the Rattle and the Symbol shiver. These have a savage appearance,  made of shells and wood and scrap metal, crafted by idle Vulcan hands few weeks ago. Not precious bronze silver and gold laced by a long dead craftsman.  There are many more bells then before.  Some of the crowd have taken to bring rattles and even sheet metal to add to the cacophony.

    The most beautiful copper gong was constructed.  In a hexagon.  Six-sided to represent virtues of an ideal mate,  the elegant sciences depicted as maidens.  The secret scripts reproduced, that no Vulcan can read properly any longer. Spock hits it with his elegant Tumari hammer strips of vinyl, not leather like the real Tumari hammers. Even in his illness Spock is overcome by the beauty of the craftsmanship.  It is an exact copy of his families marriage gong.  Only the copper has not covered by a patina.  It glints Unworldly red and yellow.  

    The sound is beautiful, and shakes delicately even minutes later.  Shakk the metallurgist and instrument craftsman died of grief three weeks ago as if he had Bendaii.  His dying words were he could not die until he saw it wrung.  But Grief is Illogical as it deadly and the damage to his heart was done. His mind could not fix it, in a last burst of productivity produced this for today.

    Spock reaches out for her as they did when they were children.  T’pring shows her true colors in a glitter of her eye and a tightening of her pupil. It is such a small motion it is barely readable.

    The whole colony has waited for a Koon-at-kal-I-fee.  A few years ago most would moan the loss of productivity and the troubles that rising Vulcans would get themselves into.  Angered that they would be put out by a wedding party or a grooms feast.  Now most of those people were dead so they would certainly not have to attend their wedding parties.  
Now the lack of a constant and regular wedding and births to compliment the increasing funerals.  No one wanted to construct any more pyres, no more funeral cones, no graves.  The Vulcans that remained sharing stories and contrasting the Koon-at-kal-I-fee customs from place to place.  The Trelat wear masks and wear red and purple.  Tpileh brides shear their hair and use the braid as a lucky charm.  Tumar have a child sing a hymn.  But with no men rising,  these things taunt.  It is these tiny things that no one realized were illogic in the grand scheme of the universe, that sting the most of all when lost.

    They wish to know things will be as they were, but they are monstrously deluded.

    T’pau does not share the exultation of the masses for a match.  They are both wealthy which gives them latitude, Intellect which push them to Wisdom and Accomplishment. They have Political Connection.  And this aural gravity that only few of the commoners can see.  There are some that Spock was less Vulcan because of a deviation in his genetic pattern, the Qomi blood in his veins.  Not only was it within the most sacred standard of deviation, it gave his katra such unusual strength and virtue, it would never be duplicated.  

    The fools had so many reason. His ears were short for a man, His eyebrow did not grow long enough.  His eyes flickered light this way or that, his brow quivered with rage or joy, instead of lying flat. A Vulcan is more than a still face. Parasites might paralyze the muscles of the face.   A Vulcan is not in his face. It is nonsense when it comes to the Katra, the Life and spirit which flows in anything.  He is a great Vulcan.  They have waited him to take their place among Vulcan Society.

    The masses think they know what they want. Spock must give them young.  T’pring was his only equal.  They would walk hand in hand down the Path of Kohlinar and come to it’s end. Alone, who knows what mischief they would do if they were not wed.

    T’pau has a flash of a memory of what it is to be angry. She must let it go.

    There is something wrong in the match.


	2. Chapter 2

_**T'Pring, 12 Years ago**_  
Vulcan children are most illogic, when the Plak flows, their minds stop.

T'Pring does find love.  She hides it so well even she does not realize it till that dark day when Vulcan becomes Vulcan-That-Was.  She loves most illogically, a place. The place where her father is not.  She wants to be there forever.

The tension between her and father could explode into a reaction.  She does not like to think about her ingratitude. Soren is a master of meditation and has given her great gifts.  But there is a tension between them.  Being the only daughter, being the one that resembles her dead mother, maybe even masked by something Spock could call jealousy.  Who knows about such things which have no name or shape. They are as the wind, insubstantial, forceful and quick to pass.  But the mothers are there as they are for all Vulcan, to coddle and protect the heir of their hopes from rough usage by a cold father.  

The mothers are always there: The priestess that pulls thee from the womb.  The teacher who trains your mind arts and body arts, the politicians and scientists that control the meritocracy, until that last day, the Priestess places your katra in the arc. A man’s influence can only be for one lifetime.

When she is ready for woman’s rites T’Lar was supposed take her in and introduce her to the ways of the Gods. T’Lar is the Eldest Mother and wisest of the Family.  She rules Vulcan in some ways.  She holds more power in the spirituality than even T’Pau. T’Lar is exact in her expectation and the family must follow. Her foremother’s words are clear, She has telepathic mind training but her education in worldly affairs is insufficient and will not serve her.  It will be corrected.

T'Pring learned nothing of the ologies before then.  These Elegant sciences. In place as remote and austere as this monastery, there is no place for a child who acts like a child. Everyone in Dhikune had left the world to be free of it.  They did not concern themselves with study of Science only meditation and freedom from Emotions. Adults learned the mind arts and suus mahna forms to clear their minds. Her elder brother taught her geometry from a paper book a few times a week. Her fore-aunt taught her of Surak and of the gods who were long dead, the things you must know as illogical and false, and will not help achieve Aiemansu, passion’s mastery. She learned a little algebra and drawing when she was not meditating or in a trance or in a fast.  She does not know of biology which holds her mind together or populates Vulcan with fascinating animals (Though she can strangle a tresh-kah with a rope and avoid le-mataya.) She does not know of geology and hydrology (Though she can find water at the root of a Love Tree) She does not know the names of the continents on Andoria. Or when the Romulan war ended. She named the wrong United Federation President (he was a human so she did not know, but T’Pau was head of the Vulcans who ruled T'Pring.) She does not know the difference between Kythara and ryll*. She once wished to play a pretty instrument but it was not logical to one seeking Kohlinar. She has a fine hand, but cannot type a simple data string into a console. She can’t even use a keyboard, only learning calligraphy. She also knows a sleeper hold that will detach a man’s spinal chord from his brain and knows five presure points to kill a man.

T’Pau and T’Lar said T'Pring must go from her home to learn other ways. They called them “advanced deportment lessons” at the T’pileh Ladies Conservatory in the city. It is a boarding school. Priestess T’Zaia does not protest, but her honored Foremother has never been one to care about anything. What could you expect of a Kohlinaru priestess? T’Zaia is T'Pring’s hero, her marvelous Kohlinar mind clear and without pretension or worry. One day this T'Pring may be T’sai and she will be an Aduna in Surak’s clan.  Maybe even a Matriarch. She must educate herself. The Conservatory is where she learns the graces of city life.  She has lived in austerity since age 16. She is allowed to keep her long marriage braid, though it is not in keeping with the dress code.

There are many things about The Ladies Conservatory that are different that are preferable.  T’Lar wishes her to know that such places exist. Unlike home there are the greatest scholars in the known galaxy. There are scholars who study the stars and the bugs and the dirt and anything that there is, no study is forbidden.  There is no book that is deemed illogical, no need to censure. There were so many data files that she will never be able to read them all anyway. There are computers where you could find out what happened yesterday on Earth or what happened a week ago on Deep Space 2.  

She has her own room without her brothers, and a blanket and mattress and a chair that were hers, a room that keeps the sand out in a storm, which piles against the clear plastic window. She has four clean uniforms. There is an indoor refresher for windy days and the sand pit is huge and closed in. Her water quota is more then she can drink, and she foolishly embarrassed herself nearly a drinking a whole days water in ten minutes just because she could and was incredulous.  There is more food then she can eat, and her belly is not something she has to ignore in pain control meditation.  In fact there is a regularity and schedule for eating. At school, there is regularity in socializing and talking and reading and even for music, because they even learn the things that do not have any practical value, merely logic of stimulating the mind.

And there are glittering cool halls, with blackboards and white boards, where mathematics covers the walls.  There has never been a Vulcan no mater how small or poor or diminished that cannot see the beauty of an equation, and how a powerful astrologer, or arithmancer or Master of Elegance can pare it down into purest simplicity.  They let her go to the great black board and untangle some problem till her mind tingles with energy and comprehension, unfettered by confusion or low frustrations.  
Mathematics is a respite of all Vulcans, to relieve the stress of co-existing with other grim animals, and stupid aliens, and above all Vulcans who are stupid and cruel and must be silent or reveal it. The numbers are perfect units of reality. The click of chalk.  The scrape of the soft eraser.  There is a goodness in the world that is a part of its logic, not to be avoided.

Her schoolmate, T'van was her constant companion.  T'van is from the city and a fine student who helps her with ologies. T'van is a very different person. She is only competent at telepathic arts, and is terrible at Suus Mahna. There are those who would call the girl shallow and unconcerned of the inner world.  She is just over-stimulated, with so many things to discover and master she forgets to slow down and think about the nature of the mind. T'van does not really have much to say of importance  but talks a lot.  T'Pring lets her. T'van likes to have a friend who lets her talk as much as she wants.

They are walking through the town on some errand.  Somehow T'van with her confident, even boisterous ways, convinced her to go shopping even if they had nothing of importance to do there.  This day they were going to buy a new hair clip because it snapped in her calisthenics (Suus Mann). This was not a necessity but T'van made it seem vital. She emphatically indicated the new clip must be graj ash wood because it provided thirty seven benefits over that of a plain plastic clip, which she enumerated to anyone who would listen.  They called many of the girls to come along as well, though T'van would be the only one who needed anything. The whole crowd of them going to buy one hairclip, was a foolish idea, though it seemed logically sound at the time. They were thinking of their long soft braids walking down the city streets as the time sounded for 1500 hours, T'van returned to the topic of their intended bondmates.  She spent many of her free hours discussing him.

“This is my Sojick.”  T'van showed off the Cameo with his visage etched in glass. “We are waiting until I get my appointment at the Academy to have children.  He and my mother are growing quite close. But Mother is insistent that every pon farr a proper lady should have a child. Proper heirs. T‘Same.”

She says “This is Shoras.  He is working for the terraforming project on Drouchit 6, he will be returning to Vulcan after that. With a Doctorate, maybe then he can get into the Institute of Technology. That will surely be in his favor should he apply for the Science Academy this year.” T’Same shows the image of her intended.

“Show your’s Tiola,” T'van said.

“If you insist T'van-love.” Tiola was shy. She was short, with short hair under her modest little hair cover looking terribly androgyne and urbane. On average, Tiola says less then T'Pring, but out of timidity. She has a picture of a man etched in glass. “This is Stonn.  He is from Shikar originally. His lands are extensive up north. He is studying to be an Agricultural Engineer.  He has a capability to make unusual fruits and vegetables thrive in harsh conditions. This excess of pride in his abilities as a gardener is his only vice. I see why he married a woman with less land then himself as he is only a passable scholar. His brothers are great scholars whose theoretical breakthroughs in Replicator Technology bring pride to the house of Sapaun.  Maybe our children will take after them. But he will have his father‘s lands when the old man dies.”

The girls are protective of their bondmates, interested in the boys’ affairs, even fascinated by them. They are curious about their future lives together.  No one really worries.  The lower households and wights usually married among themselves and, as long as the DNA profile is clean, don’t mind little things like fraternization and mind touch, and even mind meld.  Vulcans are not known to fornicate so young.

Tiola will marry well above her station.  She was a progressive in nature and had contrasting political opinions with many of the teachers and politicians of the day. She needs a wealthy husband to take her to a more metropolitan area then Tpileh City, of more varying opinions. Stonn was the son of Sapaun, was the son of T’Pau as good as family.  
“His family has status. Will you take pride in being a famous wife?” T’Same asked.

“I do not believe so,” Tiola said. “Auntie said I should break the bond. When 11, he got into a violent fight and told a lie, but I don’t believe that.  Stonn is very shy.  He lives in Tpileh now. He goes to the Boy’s Academy.  My uncle chaperones us, but he is not vigilant at his task.  His mind is very nice. I would know if he were really a violent boy or if he was a liar.”

Such secrets are not kept totally silent among the Vulcan mothers. It was true. Stonn and Spock fought violently when they both attended Shikar Academy.  Many of the boys fought violently with Spock. Many of the boys were expelled, for lying and violent conduct. The Proctor said he would only let Spock back into the school, for he did not lie though his misdeed was great.  

The Proctor was a very logical man, explaining his decision well. One did not provoke unusual creatures because they might become violent.  You can’t expect a Qomi to do anything correctly as a Vulcan would and they would have to accommodate him. This caused Spock to feel an upset that he never told her about.  Possibly one of the worst he ever had even when he was out of school for several days with the Argosian pox. T'Pring thought he was injured because he experienced a pain so intensely powerful, through their betrothal link. Spock left that school after a year though he was not expelled.

Males could be quite violent and aggressive before their first pon farr.  She had seen her brothers wrestle and do what was not brotherly.

“My Sojick is an astrogator.  He is compelled to travel and will settle no where for even a moment.” T'van blinked “I will probably just let him move to Earth or Argeelius or wherever Astrogators get work and I remain on T’khasi, in Vulcan.” T'van looked to T’Pring, “And your’s T’Pring? Show us the image your intended gave to you.”

T'Pring straightens her shopping bag “No.”

“T'Pring it is not equitable for you to keep a secret when we your sisters are here sharing.” T’Same said.

“My intended gave me no remembrance.”  T’Pring said. “He gave me this.”

She held the comm unit.  It is light and she can walk around with it and believe he gave it to her. He had the deportment of a wild animal.  Is that what humans did? Talk? Gabble about irrelevant things.  She tries not to let it perturb her study group.

“Why does he not call you on the Computer at School?”

Tiola nodded “If he gabbles or is spontaneous I can deal with.”

“Oh my. I think he wishes you to speak with him.  And lull him with your voice like the Demon Maiden Hu’a.” T'van said “That is most…  strange.”

“He says it is illogical we should not gabble at each other a few hours a night.” T‘Pring shook her head. “He does not have permission of my father.  My Father accused him of immodest intimacy.  He must ask my father before he calls me.”

“Oh. Well.”  The girls were Vulcan and did not say what their imaginations conjured.  

“He always wants to talk.” T’Pring said “Well his father is to blame for that. Sarek is the most garrulous of all the Vulcan’s who ever lived. A public servant. An Advocate for criminals. And now he spends all his time on other planets losing his manners.”

“Your intended is T’sai Amanda’s only son. The Young Spock? All the way in Shikar?” T’Same says with something that mimicks disbelief.

Tiola knew more about Shikar society “He has the Qomi mother.” Tiola said.  “He is known. I heard he saved a Klingon boy from throwing himself off the top of Ry-myr Tash Skyscraper.”

“I heard he is friends with the new Kai of Bajor.”

“I heard he assisted his father when those Betazed women came to Vulcan.”

T’Same looked around “According to the rankings he is the first of 27 fields of study.  A record that is officially unmatched.” “You have such …clever intended. I would speak of him constantly. I did not know his parents had arranged him a Vulcan marriage.” She had interest coloring her voice. “I heard that he will be appointed to The Science Academy.  The board is relaxing the admissions standards and said he did not have to submit his DNA profile.”

“That is hard to believe. How did he get away with that?” T'van said “All applicants must submit a DNA profile before admission.”

“They couldn’t. Nearly a margin of thirty percent to 35.8 of his DNA is human. They would have to throw his application out,” Tiola said.

“He could not get a job as a food server in the academy commissary if he was forced to reveal himself.”  T'van said with too much humor. She had tirelessly endeavored to get an appointment to the VSA.  She had hoped to raise her family’s honor doing thus, and have her clan gain influence in Vulcan Society. “I would honor his superlative achievement but I still do not understand how he got away with a breach of protocol.”

“It is logical that they make a decision on the application, based on all the information they can.” T’Pring said “On the health and background of the applicant.”

“They just wanted a way to cheat the Federation, and look at a scholars parentage and the purity of their blood lines. DNA is euphemism for Family Pedigree,” Tiola said.  “Not to mention they ask for things like political affiliation, religion, marital status on the application as well.  What do these personal things matter to the scientist or his work?  It is prejudicial. I think it a social injustice”

“That cannot be proven or disproven.” T’Pring said.  “As we are not privy to the application process.”

“How is it logical when we respond to only their tests and only their questions?  Such practices were used in the Science Directorate, holding back our technological progress for years even a centuries if we can remember modern history. Look how corrupt they became. Is it a coincidence that those of the highest families and purest bloodlines always receive appointments, sometimes regardless of educational status or experience in the field?”

“By it’s definition yes. It is a coincidence As we cannot prove your theories.” T’Pring said.  The other girls knew her logic was correct.

“Maybe they will forgo the DNA profile all together now, if they have Half-Qomi‘s as professors. And Betazed as students. Maybe they will join our modern times. Where the mind is the only judge of a person. The quality of his observations and the things he discovers.  Or She or it.  Judge by the mind alone.” Tiola gestured.

“It will be hard to attain an appointment with Schann Spock T’gai as competition.” T'van said.

“What is this Spock that everyone talks about him?” Her friends were curious. “Who is this creature that will marry our T'Pring?”

“He is an interesting being. He is not deformed with an extra eye or arm or no ears. Or tentacles or excreting mandibles…” T'Pring commented.

“Is Spock handsome?”

“Handsome is a subjective term and has variable meaning.” T’Pring said.  “I see him less frequently since my father caught our go-between.  He supplants that need with talking.”  
   
T’Same thinks deeply. Her plots are deep, she would be a good Cardassian whose long lived revenge plots last generations. She holds up her heavy plotting head which is tired from proper ladylike posture. “Perhaps Spock likes to speak with you so much because he  means to cohabitate before his Time.  His father would have to be liberal, Marrying Qomi.  Many of the Shikari cohabitate now. You and he might live together and become accustomed to each other before His Time.”

T’Pring protests “Father would not agree.  It is not the custom of Dhikune to cohabitate before marriage. It has been so from before the time of the Awakening. Some only meet twice before marriage. My father assailed Spock‘s pimp.  He does not know I have Spock‘s communication device. He would become angry.”

Tiola said “You had best become accustomed to their values as well, T’Pring. You are going to be Shikari too. And you will have to live there if you and Spock live in the same house.”

“Explain.”

Tiola was a quiet girl even for a Vulcan whose ears heard more then others. So when she spoke T’Pring always listened. “The Prime Minister of Tpileh says Hybrids are illogical abominations, who are prohibited legal residence or immigration cards. There was a protesting honaya last week on campus. The rival sides were all but shouting at each other. Spock will not wish to break the law and come to Tpileh illegally.”

T’Pring had not thought about where they would live. She had not thought that the political unrest fomented by the new elections in the conservative party would effect her, being a conservative Vulcan of no note.  But even if there were no problems in Tpileh there could be difficulties.

  
“When you will have offspring, they will be half Shikari half Tpileh.” T'van looked scandalized “They will be like bastards of no home. Not knowing what is the right way.”

“I doubt she is worried about something so inane. That is a small matter as their children will be only three quarters Vulcan.  They will not be allowed to live here if the conservatives are re-elected. There is a chance they will not be allowed to even get a travel card to go on a visit, if political matters come to a head.”

T’Pring should have felt cold meat in her belly, but she was a student of Kohlinar.

“If there is any decision, there will be many Tpileh that will wish to make honaya and protest and state the illogic of a decision. To leave the Hybrids alone. Then you and Spock will be free to do anything, as is Logical and Right.”

T’Pring never really thought about such matters. She would not break the trend.  
“I have become accustomed to life at the Conservatory.  I do not think it is logical I should go.  My place should be here.  Perhaps if I tell Spock that it would make me unhappy, he will not press me to do so. He is a very accommodating man.  As is fit a true gentleman.”

“What about your Foremothers?”

“They are not gentlemen.” T'Pring said.

When she arrived back at her room, she heard a noise in her room.  She worried an annoying pest flew in her door.  It was a different pest then she expected.  It was Tsiao’ge was sitting on her computer desk and her equally rude little friend K‘sel was flicking her monitor on and off. The two little ones never left her in peace with their silly questions.  
“T'Pring why did you not invite us to go shopping?” Tsiao’ge asked “What did you buy?”  
“Nothing it was T’van who bought things. Leave my room. I wish to be alone with my companions” T'Pring said.  
“We wished to come with you T'Pring,” Tsiao’ge said. “Aren’t we companions too?”  
“No. You cannot go unescorted in the city.  You are children and we are juveniles. And not my companions.”  
“That is why we wanted to go with you T'Pring.”  Tsiao’ge said.  K’sel was not saying anything flicking around T'Pring’s private desktop.

“K’sel you will break it.” T’Pring was not amused.  These little girls were exasperating.  The other girls in T’Pring’s class were hiding amusement as Tsiao’ge kept asking curious questions.  Tsiao’ge had adopted T’Pring for her idol and role model, though T’Pring did not wish it.

It was only then when her room was full of strangers that fate decided Spock should make a call over the computer. She has not seen his face for 2.9 years.

The screen revealed the appearance of Spock’s stern face.  Handsome with encroaching manhood, his cheeks hollowed with strength instead of plump and gentle. He looked into the camera.

“I will speak to my intended alone. Everyone go.”  
The girls all crowd around slowly to get a look at the screen.  They rubber neck and twisted their heads to see who this young man is. To get a good look at his face without interrupting T’Pring.

They are surprised to see this spokc, his thin brows and his long eye lashes.  His face so Vulcan and elegantly  symmetrical.    
“You are an attractive male.”  K’sel tells Spock.  

There was a silence and an audible gasp. The girls look at K’sel.  
His speech breaking and squeaking. “Excuse me? I have misheard you.”  Spock was disoriented by her complement. His face changing to an embarrassed green as he notes all the girls staring at him.  
“You are very beautiful. You don‘t look like an alien.”

She races away before he can chastise her lack of manners.  The girls stare for a minute. No one expected the little girl to say that.  They stood quietly. As Quickly as the Qomi turned red, he turned a smoky green.  He could not control the small capillaries in his cheeks.  It was unusually ill-mannered.

Shikari are notorious for their body hating and austere comportment.  They might have even caused less offence if she had used some insult instead of calling him attractive.  Spock did not believe she said such a rude thing out loud.  Such a thing to arouse a reaction out of him.  For a people known for their blunt honesty even that was over the line.  
   
Spock looked away from the camera panicking and fumbling for the screen.  “I will call her later. I cannot talk right now with all these strangers.”  She did not know he blushed so quickly.  
The second Spock disconnected, the other little girls pounced on T'Pring and gave their irrelevant commentary.  They acted like Qomi and surrounded her shouting.

“He is most handsome. If I had a image of Spock I would stare at it for dazed and be too amazed and emotional for my studies,” K’sel said

“I have seen Spock’s likeness on the feeds, and traveling with his father on that mission to Bajor. But never up close. He has Northman’s looks.” T’Same said.

“He is most aesthetically suitable. Exotic. His eyes are red-brown, not hazel.” Tiola contributed “An unusual skin tone as well.”

“He has pink lips not brown. His lips are so wet. He makes water in his mouth too?” T'van asked eyes danced with mirth.too young to understand what she was saying.

“How do you not stare at his unnatural eyes when you talk to him? They seem hypnotic. Does he try to mesmerize you?” Tsiao’ge squeezed her hands around her headscarf in nervous suppression.

“All of you will be silent.” T'Pring said forcefully “You have no right to say things which induce such an intense emotional reaction in him.  So what if he is handsome? So what if he is an alien. You should not say such things.  You will all leave my room.  You have shamed him and yourselves. You will not shame me.”

“We just wanted to see what an alien looks like.” Tsiao’ge said. But it was true for all of then “It is true, he is good looking. I admire him for it.”

“T'Pring they are girls.  You must not have a reaction of your own.”  T’Same said. “You seem angry.” T’Same grabbed K’sel her sister by the hood of her school robe, “Come you two.  Do not bother T'Pring or Spock. They will scream at you like a mental defective.”

T'Pring grumbled wishing that she could bodily discourage them to ever enter her rooms without permission.  She wished the headmaster would allow her a lock on her chambers.  Or she could kick Tsiao’ge in the posterior.  But T'Pring’s rating in suus mahna,  kareel-ifla was too high to be allowed to fight anyone.  She had been studying martial art much longer then the city girls, who were all very thin and soft.  So they would have to arrest her even for striking a classmate.

T’Same got the little girls to leave, pushing shoving in very un-lady like means.  The Proctors would be angered that a small matter had blossomed into a fit of emotionalism, perhaps they would not allow Spock to call ever again.  He was embarrassed and even she could not believe the lack of comportment the little ones showed.  She should have every right to scream at them and tell them of her negative emotions.  They had intruded in a very private matter of hers and Spock’s, as well.

T'Pring dismissed everyone from her room for their atrocious behavior.

She returned to her blue meditation rug and began to meditate her stress away.  She did not know something so irrelevant as a handsome boy could cause such a torrent of emotions. Her lack of control was shameful and weak. She must not let her anxieties effect her meditation.  Hours later she was not calmed, but had only had her meditation ruined by thoughts.

Unless Spock’s academic career took him abroad to other planets (which was unthinkable), he would want to stay in the capital with his mother (humans were very needy of their children).  He might need to visit Earth from time to time.  Would he expect her to leave her home to visit such a place too?

She might have to move to Gol when she was an adept, but not before having a child. No Kohlinar adept could apply if she had a small child.  T’Zaia made this “no mothers allowed” rule and had not made one exception in 138.8 years, since she had been Grand Master and High Priestess of Gol. T’Zaia lived nearby Soren. T'Pring had seen T’Saia several times a year.  Soren knew his mother was a good influence and exemplar of Vulcan virtures.

It was T’Lar, her dead mother’s mother who would make the decision where she lived.  Not Spock and not herself.  T’lar made it clear that she wished T'Pring to take her womanhood rites at Seleya to begin her training for the Priesthood. T'Pring, as she got older, wondered if this would be something like a good thing. Or if she like her father would not wish to live by T’Lar’s decisions either.  He never listened to her

 But would she like Shikari life?  Would she have to endure the chaotic presence of Spock’s mother?  Would she be a central figure in these reports of note?  Would she be saving people off sky scrapers and going to all kinds of strange places she never heard of before? Would she be risking her life illogically?  Maybe Seleya would be as agreeable as Tpileh. Maybe she would even like the excitement of Shikar.  
   
T'Pring would not give up Tpileh. Or would she be forced to leave when her schooling was complete. She had found this place the most suitable for her.  Dhikune was bereft, and Gol somehow made her feel as small and weak as a nursling. Everything with T’Lar and her father and Spock was most complicated and confusing. A difficulty that could not be picked apart with careful thoughts.  They were not numbers. Lady T’Zaia was so wise and careful to overcome such things, could she?

T'van and Tiola arrived at her door. “Are you talking to Spock?”

“No he has not called back.  I think he fears embarrassment if he should call again.” T’Pring said, “It would have been agreeable to speak with him with my father’s permission.”

She could forgive these two. It was not their fault those little girls had treated Spock like that.

“We wish to apologize to Spock for making him have a feeling.” Tiola said.  
“We should have told K’sel of her misspeaking and chastised her behavior.

“You did not make him have a feeling. He should be stronger. K’sel was foolish. He was weak. Come in and sit and I will share fresh water.”

T’van and Tiola took their places on the soft cushions on T'Pring’s floor. T‘van let her comportment ooze into the cushion and laid down on her elbow. They lounged like wives in some Pre-Surakki harem, discussing many interpersonal relationships and philosophical matters of the day.  T'Pring never had female associates, and had a brief un-Vulcan-like hope they would be friends.

“I do not know why you do not wish to converse about your bondmate, T’Pring.” Tiola shook her head. “You are fortunate your parents have found you a mate like him.  He is such a man.  Do not be timid.”

“He is more then a sufficient mate.  I thought Shikari gentleman abhorred excess of beauty. Satisfactory is the highest compliment.” T'van almost spoke heretically, purposefully misquoting Surak’s words. “Must be human excess.” she said.

“Humans are an excessive child race.” T'Pring said.

“He barely looks like an alien.” T’van said.

“He is no alien. He is Vulcan.” Tiola said

“In part, he is a Vulcan. His genetic makeup makes him solely unique, for the time being.” T'van said.

“In part, he is a human. He lives on Vulcan. follow Vulcan ways…”

T'Pring does not wish to hear such a circular pointless debate, “Would you please desist?  I have heard enough about what others think of Spock tonight.”

Tiola looked to her. “He could be half Tellarian. Who not only have poor manners but no attractive looks.  He is a most intelligent creature as creatures go. The priests do not possess the answers to what he is.  Nor the scientists.  One day we will know what he is with further ontological and philosophical study, until then, he is your mate.”

T'Pring sighed and crossed her legs.

T'van went on and on. “I don’t care what he is. It is unequitable match  T'Pring. He is aesthetically attractive but T'Pring not his caliber of scholar. Perhaps she will gain attributes that will make her his equal, but now it seems an unsuitable match.  We all love T'Pring sure, but this is Spock. He looks like he has all the finest qualities of the Perfect Male.  Prudence,  Equanimity, Efficiency,  Rationality,“ She put on her new shiny clip “Restraint and the Ability to Mask distasteful emotional states in the presence of Ladies. He would even be Predictable. ” She said. “Men are distastefully Spontaneous.” Her inexperience created the image of her perfect man. Not that Spock didn’t have most of these qualities, except those last three.

 “All things logical qualities in a life mate.” T'Pring says. T’van is both right and foolish at the same time, which is maddening.

Tiola thought “My perfect husband will have flaws. I do not care how much he talks or if he does not talk at all. He will be morally upright and he will nurse our offspring while I go back to the Musical Conservatory. He and I willwork in furtherance of the house of Sapaun. I will see to his needs even when we are parted. If  he loves you and is reliable, What else does a girl need?”  

It was notlike Tiola to use such crude terms.  As love.  Tiola was a strange girl, who said very strange things. At least T’van prevented herself from using such language.  But Tiola had simple needs, in both tangible desires and intangible desires.  And there was sometimes no other word.

“You have too low expectations Tiola-love.  To merely have some flighty thing as love to base your union. You are to be in the Clan of Surak. You can have whatever you want with the immense resources you are accorded. If I were to marry into Surak‘s clan I would have no need of mine unmet.” T’van said. “No one needs emotions.”

“I’ll bet you would be happy to be affianced to a son of Surak.” T'Pring said bitterly.

“If I were an alien yes.” T’van said. “I would be very happy to have a wonderful husband.”

T‘van continued her sermonizing and imaginative discourse, “Men these days are inferior.  Why are men so ungentlemanly, spontaneous, irregular, not punctual, with no order?  Or they are incomplete of gender, or they are intended to others. The one with brains are manipulative. The other half of them don’t even have any brains. Only girls like T'Pring, of high households and famous relatives, get the smartest ones. Her foremother is a Kohlinar Master.”

“My paternal, my maternal is at Seleya.”

“See. You are as close to the royal lines as they come, since Tsai T‘par died of cancer and her son is not spoken of.” T’van could have sounded jealous.  “You could marry any man you want.”

Tiola said “T'Pring has a good bloodline.  And bloodlines are vital to the safety of Vulcan. Men cannot carry on the bloodline and are but vessels of the genetic material.  If not for T‘Pring, Surak‘s bloodline could be lost.”

“Compared to Spock, my Sojik is bold, exciting, cowardly and plain of face. It is an unfavorable comparison,” T’van said.

“You sound illogical T’van-love. I am what I am.” T’Pring said. “The man who my parents picked for me cannot transform my life.”

“I can’t help feeling that you are indeed the most fortunate girl in school. I agree with Tiola. Spock is rich, intelligent, a fine student and a exemplar of virtues. What more could you want of a mate then Spock.  Four penises?”

“T’van!” Tiola scolds for such crudity.

T‘van said “He is a scholar of note at a young age.  So he does not take after his human blood at all. He’s barely a human at all. He might as well be all Vulcan. I heard his IQ is…”

“You can’t tell T'Pring everything. Save something for the marriage intercourse.” Tiola said. Her eyes coyily blinking. Even quiet Tiola was mocking her. “Is it not said Humans like surprises which aggravate their passion and stimulate their enjoyment…”

“I am not Human.” T'Pring is surprised at the volume in the voice, but her schoolmates are illogical and gabble like birds.  And such low terms.  Were women she thought worthy to be friends using double entendres?

“Do you have nothing of note to discuss then but my intended?” T'Pring asked in a tight voice.

“Not especially.” Tiola shook her head

“Not tonight anyway.” T’van lay on the ground.

“It is wrong for a lady to speak of another’s mate or intended with lust.” T'Pring said.  
“I do not-” Tiola protests  
“I do.” T’van admits and stares right at T'Pring.

They might not be giggling or grooming each other, but young girls have a sort of common vocabulary.  Did human girls and Klingons maids have nothing to talk about but their mates as well? Did any female have anything serious to say in the galaxy?

“I know his intelligence.  We have had rare intercourse but I have seen his mind.” T'Pring said. “At Koon-at-katr-la.”

“How much could have changed? People rarely change fromtheir true natures.”

T'Pring sat “No one will say anything bad about Spock. Everyone said he is the greatest Vulcan in the world. While in reality he is not all Vulcan. Such superlatives cannot be a reliable accounting of him. What is Spock truly like?”

“Do you think they lie about him, my love?” T’van said. “That they exaggerate his intelligence and exploits.”  
“No.  But they do not say why. Why he does such things?  What are his motivations? They must not say everything.” T'Pring said “They must be hiding something.  I wish I knew him. Not just glimpse at his mind… but know him.” T'Pring said “I wish I was able to understand Spock before we are wed.”  
   
“I’m sorry. But that is just how men are.  Even handsome ones.” Tiola said.

“And he will probably rise to Pon Farr every year if unchecked.” T'Pring purses her lips.

“T'Pring! First T’van and now you.  You do know better. It is not like you to speak crudely.” Tiola was shocked. “Are you in PlakTow? To abuse your friends ears with crude language. And to speak ill of thy intended.”

“I have read the books. His mother comes to my house.” T'Pring had the look of a woman who was driven to surprise finding a moth in her closet.

“Has his mother has given you her families Love texts? My cousin gave me mine.”

“Like a vulcan.” T’van nodded. “She has adapted many customs of Vulcans. She has been studying or ways.” Tiola added.

“Aye. Human love texts. As if they have not the largest collection of digital pornography of any race in the federation. This was not like ours. Dry and Scientific.  Sex must not be as much fun as the pornography indicates.  I wonder if human women have any pleasure. There must be a reason they are always on heat.  To raise a daughter ready to mate at 13 and continually on heat like a sha’ami goat. What sort of world is it? Or have a son who will go after a woman who is not picked by their mother.” T'Pring could not bear to think of possible children yet, it induced fear and confusion.  
    “She’s trying to change me to something foul and un-Vulcan.  She smiles at me with every tooth and tells of her happiness. And that she wished me happiness and she wished her son happiness. And every word a lie.” T'Pring lowered her head “She always hated me.  The first time I met her she screamed. She said she did not wish her son to be married.”

“She truly screamed?” Tiola clutched her headscarf.

“Outloud a scream.” T’van repated. The two girls looked at her transfixed with vicarious excitement.  “I have never heard a scream.” A human scream was something alien and eldritch, like a ghost or demon.  
“Did it hurt your ears?”

“Yes.” T'Pring said  “I never…” She remembered her Koon-at-katr-la clearly, with eidetic precision. No one had ever been so cruel and angry in her life before that point. Anger disgust and shame was held in check by perfectly serene faces.  To see hate on Amanda’s face was offensive. “Spock said it was directed at T’pau. That she was not angry at me.”

“You should listen to him. He knows his mother. Maybe she does not have hate for you, but for T’pau, as Spock said. Since then she has given you the love text and wished to gain your alliance.  And garnering your attention by kindness. Qomi do things such as this.”

“What do you know of the Qomi? T’van.” T‘Pring snorted “I am the only one who ever even met one. If she does not hate me, why does she not apologize for screaming at me? Am I to believe that she, a lady, said things that she did NOT mean?” She snorted. A lady not speaking her mind and being untrue was too foreign for T'Pring to understand.  “Amanda is an offensive being to me. No one speaks poorly of her, either.” She said “What if such things are true about him?” What if Spock could be like Amanda? And Treat her as Amanda had treated her, and put fear in her. To make her feel such things.

T'Pring was feeling and it was such a burden. She balled her fist. “Happy Happy Happy. I never wish to hear this word. Happiness is for the beast and the Qomi.”  
“How can being happy make one so miserable?”  
After that T'Pring hadn’t much to say to her friends about Spock. They sat besides her on her bed and tried to keep her from her strong emotions.

**** _ **  
T’pau  Now**_  
    Stohlen and Sor were strong Vulcans, especially Stohlen, who lifted T’pau to the top of the litter as if she was a small wrinkled purse.  She did not prefer this tradition of the attendant riding on a litter of majesty.  She would have liked to ride in like a man would,  on one of those spirited “hor-ses” or one of those Three eyed elks who inhabited the colony planet.  A lesser Vulcan or small child might feel helpless up there.  It was not in her nature to let others direct where she went.  Especially if it wobbled.  
    No, T’pau was a logical woman.  People of logic try to direct their own fate.  When she felt Vulcan had lost it’s way in the modern era, she became the student of Syrrian and his closest confidante. When she felt the rule of law of the High Command was unjust, she became a freedom fighter even though she was called a terrorist and framed for Murder. When her intended left her at 16, she did not die, she merely found a new mate. A fine mate, one superior to her first in thirty-seven different ways. Her chosen mate, Koss was handsome, wealthy, of good family and of good blood lines, and no one was using him.  There was something very logical about using an untapped resource. He was intended to T’pol the ambassador, but she did not want him and would not challenge.  No one ever found out why, but she would not. The results were unpleasant but not irrational.  
T’pau could still remember he discourse with T‘pol on the matter in a boardroom of the Conclave of Priestess. Both of them in the plaktow, fine ladies of high political office influence swearing like Naussicans and circling each other like angry beasts.  Koss was there, bidding them hold onto logic. He might have done it if that whorish Ambassador T’pol called her an adulterer. Obviously the logical solution was to punch T’pol in her stupid stupid face.  T’pau, a lifelong practitioner of the killing arts, had never actually hurt someone before. Apparently she was prodigy.  
T’pol clutched her bleeding face and grunted in pain. After that the only suitable response was for T’pol a larger woman to try to throttle and shake T’pau by the neck until her head popped off. Women did not often fight on the marriage grounds. Since it was no marriage grounds, no one died. But there was lots of blood, and broken teeth and Ear pulling. The federation officers had to fire their phasers in the air, not realizing it was Pon Farr, thinking it merely anger. The last thing T’pau remembers about that day was T’pol getting stunned by a phase pistol and laughing at her fall. T’Lar put her down with a neck pinch. (Who knew T’Lar could fight as well as she could heal?)  
T’pol lost her mate that day and skittered away limping and bleeding missing an incisor. Apparently almost content to take another mate… (in fact knowing her a few other mates.)  T’pau had no idea that she harbored such intense feeling of the woman. Only Plaktow could reveal it.  They had practiced their fighting several times since but never with that power. Only death could allow T’pau to admit she missed that friend of hers. That impossibly brave and stubborn woman.  T’pol should be here too on the new colony. She could teach these children how to get things done.

100 years later, Romulans attacked, the world was sucked into a wormhole and the last time she saw Kos, he tripped while escaping the Katric Arc, probably tripping on his robe or on a errant bootlace.  T’pau never saw as Sor threw her over his shoulder and ran.  She was angered and so overcome with the force of evil emotions. T’pau even tried to stop Sor from saving her life. Such evil things emotions were. She knew she preferred to be in control.  She would have found a way on her own. She would have…  She shook her head.  
    The sight of T’Pring’s ceremony takes her away from Uzu-Ahrak and the dark days of the High Command. She remembers the insanity of her own Pon Farr.  She was 42. Rapacious mind-eating pon farr, that rattles the life so young. Particularly the violence lust, she was unusual and had it in the earliest stages of Pon Farr. But it was not uncommon for fights, violent and angry to occur at the weddings.  The masked ax-man stood there curbing their insane emotions, ready to contain the violence, symbol of their own need for the rituals.  
    She missed stern T’pol. She missed the gentle T’lar and her unfaling wisdom and goodness. She missed the twice used Kos both brilliant and clueless and her partner in life. They were all gone, T’pol killed her self before the onset of Bendaii at 147, too proud for her own good.  T’lar lived in austerity and never…  never would have know there was the Battle of Vulcan had ended.  She was sucked into the black hole. Kos tripped on his robe and T’pau couldn’t do anything.  
    In such savage days even she, an old woman like her has duties to live on and on despite the risk of sorrow. She even has suitors, who if she rise again would try to impregnate her. Sarek’s cousin/uncle, Selek is the worst.  Normally he is quiet and lives in Sarek’s house, in almost a state of austerity.  He will fix hardware, and Sarek informs him of the Newsfeeds, because Selek’s eyes are bad even for an old man. When in the colony he does chores in Sarek’s house between scribbling on some project, she cannot define . She has not been engaged in the elegant Sciences of Vulcan since she was a girl in her learning bowl.  Selek is an expert on Human relations, Klingon technology, is fluent in Legarian and a variety of bizarre knowledge areas.  He makes exquisite cloths and made her a most elegant silk shawl which is where they made acquaintance.  That and being the FEDERATION AMBASSADOR. For Some reason he was appointed Federation Ambassador alongside Sarek who had been doing it for years. T’pau realized that maybe it was best not to know, and it had never come up in conversation.  T’pau was sure that the answer might test her tenuous control over her feelings of anger and frustration with it. There is that old saying “Ignorance is Bliss.” Though she was head of the Vulcan High Council, she let younger more flexible minds on her council battle.  The Federation had an entire bureau for such matters. Time Travel gave her an earache.  
    He has not made koon-at-sol-ik to her or courted her, but he acts so odd.  He lives in a time all his own. He does every undignified thing, grunting, using strange language and sarcasm, crinkling up the corners of his dark eyes behind wrinkles. He is always squinting at her as if she is interesting.  
    Lately the old man has hounded her like a naughty Klingon, trying to argue with her.  He leaves her quotes from human poets as book marks in her sacred books with the most decadent and emotional sentiment in them. It should be offensive. She knows it was he that snuck into her quarters and hacked into her computer terminal to crash her hard drive with Erotic Pornography.  He said that Computers were one of his great “passions“ and he would be happy to assist her “in her quarters.” As if T’pau was a 40 year-old ninny who was in awe of a man who could push buttons on a screen. She ignores him and gets the young noviate to purge the hard drive. T’pau wonders if Selek has ever successfully courted anyone this way.  Normally only the youngest boys would act this silly when others went into Pon Farr. Unlike women, all men in the area could be…so effected. The Time Traveler was “hitting on” her. The Fires of T’pel burned in her poor ears.  If T’pau was not mistaken she would think Selek was on HIS pon farr.  
    T’pau might have pitied the old man and been with him to quench his fire, but door remained shut this year and may remain so till the end of her life, though the need was great. Even with a winsome lad like Spock prowling around the Caverns like a earthen tiger (all claws and shoulders and hips) Nature would not pity her and allow her the flush of Plak to give her more children to replace Sapaun and T’kossa, Lost in Vulcan Before.  Pity is not logical.

    Pon Farr was gentler with those of long hair and short years. There was no order or fairness in such events, at least one she could percieve yet.  It seemed like the whole universe in a violent Pon Farr of its own.  An out of control dissolution into nothingness. But Pon Farr to a Vulcan was only a part of life a cycle in the rhythm of C’thia.  T’pau said nothing, for she is Vulcan, and it the only Vulcan illogic left to hope.

    Her liter arrives and is planted on the ground.

    Spock kneels before her and gives her the Ta’al in respect, she returned.  
      
The Humans stand near Spock and they behold the spectacle.  
      
    Humans are clever, not wise. They have a profound resourcefulness and flexibility and can mimic everything. They can look at the truth and see a thousand truths and still never completely lie. But they are like frightened little animals in the arena.  
      
    They are not attuned to notice or communicate in the way of Vulcans.  They do not hear the Vulcans chatter with each other through the bonds of telepathy.  Vulcans sent images to each other when their blood is pounding heavy. The humans feel the place though, still in their skins and minds and imaginations which tower over Vulcans, who only live in Kaadith, and follow C’thia.

    They walk around odd memories of Duels and marriages and love confessions and double deaths.  (When both lover and beloved die in sympathy).  They cannot communicate so it seems even more terrifying. They hear a scream of violence. A union of two star crossed lovers whose parents were blind to the logic of their union. They hear a virgin couple in the throws of heat, taking each other under the skies of Vulcan in view of the assembly and a man having his head ripped off his neck. They do not see the T’sai T’phia slice through her consort’s bowels with a blood soaked lyrpa.  Or the grand musician S’klaris hanging from an ahnwoon off a cliff, by the neck till green and dead.

    They are used to this so the glamour of such a place is lost to them.  Things like murder, robbery and sexual lasciviousness happened still in every human city, but it might be unfair to call all of them murderous and lusty.

    Jim Kirk stands attendant like a pe'le'ut'la (chaperon) to the young glorious Spock.  They stand near him like a pair of butterflies guarding a great dragon.

She whispers to Spock “Are our ceremonies for outworlders?”  
Spock is a little in the plaktow already, his voice rougher then it needs to be “They are not outworlders they are my friends. I am permitted this.”

Thee names these outworlders friends, how does thee pledge their behavior?  
With my life T’pau.  
This is Kirk.  
Ma'am.

    Kirk, youngest of the trio, all the Vulcans do know.  Kirk of the Enterprise.  His recklessness is only matched by his sense of honor. His hair is warm bronze. His eyes are blue. He is not smiling today, but when he does the door to every maidens’ heart must be rattled open a bit.  His was the great beauty suitable only for maidens.  An example of his race and their skill charm and its flaws.  Sure he may be beautiful to bed and winsome… but he could use his skill on other women.  Who knows how many human maids and women he has bedded… Maybe even four.

    If Pon farr escalates past the doors of the Caverns, he will be sexually assaulted.  What’s worst is the human walks through the haze of lust and pheromones, ignoring every woman there, disinterested except to hold Spock’s hand and tell him it would be alright.

    That is a poor decision as Spock snarls for him to let go.  
And thee are called?  
Leonard McCoy, ma'am.  
    The healer, Dr. McCoy is slightly older and somehow just as biddable.  His hair is woodlike brown few Vulcan men posess.  His emotional shields look as a Kohlinar Adept, but he projects memories, not knowing the Vulcans can overhear them.  He thinks of his previous mate, constantly. She was an unfaithful mate and took another male.  T’pau was surprised to find out this was unsuitable behavior for most Qomi, just as it was with Vulcans.  Worst of all she would not show him their child, for humans are needful of their children. They must see their children as surely as they need to eat or sleep, even before the children are grown up and their minds are trained. He wanted to see the child and the cruel woman would not relent.  Even though he begged and cried and did everything honorable to see her.  Maybe Qomi were not so different. He will never bow to another again. He found a home in the stars.  His spirit is gentle and pained. T’pau thinks were she younger she would bed him.  She speculates what it would be to have a child of unusual virtue as was the fashion of these days.  Now that the Elegant Sciences caused such bastards to live among them, now as necessary to the safety of Vulcan’s genetic diversity. If humans were not so bright with such a foul smell it might be a challenge for her strong spirit. And if she could open her own door, heavy with age and stress…  
      
    Spock stands expectant and hopeful.  His katra at it’s zenith flanked by human auras.  It is a sight of great beauty and power and that thing that is painful, hope.

    “What we are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning. Without change.  This is the Vulcan Heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is Our Way.”


End file.
